I am clearly trying to juggle too many things: Lord of the Flies, driving the squirrels from my attic (which are chirping as I write), completing my M.Ed. in Literacy, getting dressed, walking the dog, overseeing the endless cycle of laundry-meals-and-household mayhem and writing this blog, which I turned in late to my local newspaper.
Feeling exhausted? Me too. Falling-asleep-on-the-couch-at-7-p.m. exhausted. Muscles-aching-like-I-just-ran-a-marathon exhausted. Snapping-at-my-family-over-missing-lunch-boxes-and-Who-ate-the-last-piece-of-cake? exhausted.
I had no idea how tired I was until I made time to rest. Sound like an oxymoron? It did to me. After all, when we are tired, we are supposed to take a break. Only in our 24-hours-open, 365-days-a-year, plugged-in, on-call, electrified world, who has time to rest? I certainly didn’t. “I’m so tired,” I would often tell my husband. “Take a nap,” he’d say. Only I wasn’t sleepy. I was weary…
Wife, mom, writer, friend, sharing God in my everyday life through “Faith Notes.”